


Uncle Aquila's Plan

by Layla_Balabakki



Category: The Eagle | The Eagle of the Ninth - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-30 00:54:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12097158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Layla_Balabakki/pseuds/Layla_Balabakki
Summary: After a fire at Uncle Aquila's villa, Marcus takes him to his and Esca's villa to stay. It is during that stay the older man comes to know what his nephew, and his nephew's former slave, truly are to one another. Not willing to sit back and watch Marcus stain the family name, after having risked his life to restore it, Uncle Aquila goes into action to end Marcus and Esca's relationship.





	Uncle Aquila's Plan

Uncle Aquila didn’t know how it began, or who may have been responsible; all he knew was that a fire had ravished the kitchen of his villa, on the outskirts of Calleva, and he’d been forced to become his nephew’s guest until the damage was repaired and the kitchen restored to its full use.

The former magistrate had argued the idea of moving into Marcus’ villa, since the older man didn’t wish to impose, or leave his home; the latter excuse being the most truthful one. Uncle Aquila had lived his life alone – in only the company of a handful of slaves – since he’d retired from his military career; and alone he preferred to stay. But his nephew had talked sense about the villa’s temporary inhabitability, and Uncle Aquila had listened. After all, he wasn’t an impractical man.

Uncle Aquila brought along his favorite cook, Sasstica, and of course, Stephanos, his personal body slave – the others he left at the villa to guard the home and its belongings. There was also the fact that Uncle Aquila did not wish to make Marcus and Esca feel he was taking advantage of their hospitality, or overwhelm them by the sudden presence of so many people in their, otherwise, intimate household.

Marcus and Esca had been living in the small villa, purchased from Marcus’ military pension, for all of a year. It wasn’t far from the elder Aquila’s home; Marcus made sure of that. The former centurion wanted to remain close to his uncle, not only because the man was his only living relative, and as alone in the world as he’d been, had it not been for Esca, but because of the man’s age. Lucky for Marcus, a new villa had been built not more than 2 leagues from the elder Aquila’s home, and its owners, who’d been unexpectedly called back to Rome, were forced to sell it. Marcus was immediately drawn to the property, not only for its proximity to Uncle Aquila’s villa, but because it was a huge piece of land, fit for farming, and it boasted a decent size stable. 

On their journey, back from recapturing the eagle, the two men had spoken about their futures and what they saw for themselves: Marcus saw himself as a farmer with a wife and children; Esca had an idea about breeding horses, seeing the profitability in the business. The property answered the call for both Marcus and Esca, and as such, Marcus jumped at the opportunity and bought it. It also answered Marcus’ most fervent prayer, for the former centurion did not wish for Esca to leave his side once the eagle was returned and they were back in Calleva; nor ever. What Marcus didn’t know was that Esca had no plans on leaving Marcus; unless Marcus asked him to leave, but Esca strongly felt his friend would never ask him anything of the sort.

The two men had settled in to their new roles as farmer and horse breeder and they were doing quite well for themselves. The money used to buy the property, horses, and employ a few freedmen to help with the farm, had been replaced by the close of the year. Any talk of leaving, or marriage, was a forgotten subject, especially after one night, when a drunk Marcus confessed his love for Esca, and the Brigantes warrior did the same in return. Since then, the two men enjoyed their love within the privacy of their bed chambers, or far in the woods surrounding their home, with only the birds and other creatures to witness their coupling, or kisses one would steal from the other.

If any of the household slaves were any wiser to Marcus and Esca’s secret love, none ever let on to be the wiser. The privacy of the masters of the home was jealously guarded and respected by those who worked for them. That was until Uncle Aquila came to stay. Of course, the older man had always wondered why his nephew didn’t seem interested in extending his household with the addition of a wife, and the eventual arrival of children, but he could have never suspected the reason. He would come to know it now, much to his chagrin. 

It happened late one night when the older man, unable to sleep, had left his room to go for a walk around the villa, hoping to tire himself out, when he heard moans coming from Marcus’ room. The former magistrate drew near to the closed double doors trying to discern the nature of the moans for he knew Marcus still suffered from the painful injury that doomed his military career only two years earlier. 

Since Esca had been Marcus’ caretaker during the former centurion’s convalescence, Uncle Aquila knew if there was anyone who understood how to alleviate Marcus’ pain, that would be the small Brigantes warrior. The older man looked around trying to remember what room he’d seen Esca disappear into a few hours earlier, when he heard the moan once again, but this time he noted the echo that accompanied it. He came as close to the closed double doors as he dared where he could clearly make out the slapping of skin against skin, hisses of pleasure, and soft whispers. 

Aquila smiled slyly for to him it looked as though Marcus was taking his pleasure from the pretty Syrian slave girl that had caught even the older man’s eyes the moment he’d walked past their front door: A petite, raven haired, girl with cinnamon color eyes and soft olive skin. The former magistrate was about to turn and head back to his room, when he heard the unmistakable sound of two men speaking in whispers, laughing low, and holding an intimate conversation coming from within the room. Uncle Aquila felt as though his head was spinning and his heart was about to beat itself free from his chest. 

There was no mistaking Marcus’ voice, even in whispers, nor Esca’s, but, how could they? How could Marcus? His own blood involved in such a disgusting and unmanly act! Marcus had risked his life to retrieve both the eagle and his family’s honor, only to besmirch it, yet again, but this time in the vilest way possible. Uncle Aquila had to forcibly stop himself from slamming the door open, confronting, and humiliating them both as they lay still covered in their filth. Instead, he headed back to his room and paced its length until the early hours of dawn.

The next morning, disgusted as he was to sit at the same table with either Marcus or Esca, Uncle Aquila quickly announced his plan to ride over to his villa to check on how the work was progressing. 

“But you have not eaten as much as a fig, Uncle. Are you well?” Marcus asked innocently.

“My stomach has been upset practically all night. It must have been the stewed goat. Do not forget, Marcus, my diet consists mostly of fish and eggs.” Answered Uncle Aquila with a seemingly happy chuckle, as was his way.

“Would you like Adela to make you a tea of mint leaves? She cures all of us with it.” Esca added looking over at Marcus and laughing at what must’ve been a private joke. A private joke Uncle Aquila was certain would make his stomach reel were they to share it with him. He could hardly believe how disgusted he had suddenly become with the two of them. 

It was true, he hadn’t known Marcus before the day the mule cart had stopped in front of his home carrying an unconscious Marcus 200 leagues, all the way from Isca Dumnoniorum. Therefore, he wasn’t aware if his nephew was prone to perversions of such kind. Perhaps the passionate way with which he rallied the entire audience to save Esca’s life, as the slave lay on the sands of the arena, the point of the gladiator’s sword at his neck, should’ve been a clue. But the older man thought nothing of it; after all, it wasn’t as though Esca was unattractive or poorly built.

The boy was as handsome as a young god: his body lithe, his hair fair, his eyes pale blue. The perfect distraction for a lonely former soldier trying to forget the tragedy that had befallen him and destroyed his dreams. That thought held validity for the elder Aquila when Marcus was unable to give a viable reason as to why he’d saved Esca from his death. It was the lack of a good reason that got Uncle Aquila to send Stephanos to the arena master, to buy and return with Esca for Marcus to do with as he would. The thought that Marcus had saved Esca because he had fallen in love with the boy at first sight, was something that would’ve never crossed the older man’s mind. Whatever the reason, or whatever perversions Marcus secretly harbored and nurtured in his bed, Uncle Aquila wasn’t going to allow to continue. 

That morning, Uncle Aquila did stop at his villa, as he’d said he would, and seeing that all was going according to schedule, he made his way over to his fellow magistrate and neighbor, Kaeso,’s villa. Kaeso and his wife, Valeria, had a niece as their ward: Cottia. The girl had come to live with them when her parents had died, and since Kaeso and Valeria had no children of their own, they had welcomed her with open arms. The only requisite was that she leaves her Iceni ways behind, and adopt a more Roman persona; it was because of that she was forced to take the name Camilla, a name she despised as much as she despised having to pretend to be what she was not. Cottia was at an age where a young girl could be betrothed and married; a fact that didn’t escape Uncle Aquila. It was because of that fact the elder Aquila made his way to Kaeso’s villa that morning.

“Kaeso my old friend, how would you like to bind our two families together, through a marriage between Marcus, my nephew, and Camilla?” Aquila proudly announced.

Of course, Kaeso, a Romanized Briton, would have liked nothing less for he and Aquila were, and had been friends, for many years. Valeria was overjoyed at the prospect, not only because she had forgotten who she was and where she’d come from, but a union of marriage with a Roman family, and one of such notoriety, would widen the gap between herself and her past even more. Never mind that she’d be perhaps the most envied women in the empire. Related by law to the Roman hero who rescued the eagle from the savages in the north.

“I would like nothing more, Aquila, my old friend. My family and I would be honored.” Kaeso happily accepted.

Camilla’s approval, not that it mattered, when it came to those things, was a certainty as far as Aquila figured. He had seen how enraptured the young girl became anytime Marcus sat in the courtyard to speak with her, or invited her to accompany him to walk among the sunflowers. Besides, even if that hadn’t been the case, what woman in her right mind, would refuse to marry the handsome Marcus Flavius Aquila, Hero of the Eagle of the Ninth?

When Uncle Aquila returned to Marcus and Esca’s villa that afternoon, he returned with a ready plan, and a happy heart. He was certain he’d be successful at persuading Marcus to marry Camilla. After all, it could very well have been the only reason his nephew had taken Esca to his bed - for it could not have been the other way around, he was still Roman after all- was because Marcus had been too long without a woman and he’d forgotten the joys to be found within a woman’s arms and between her legs. That evening, as desserts were brought out and placed before them, Uncle Aquila breeched the subject with Marcus.

“Marcus, my boy, I met with Kaeso while in Calleva today.” Uncle Aquila began answering Marcus’ questions about how the man was doing, as well as inquiring as to Cottia’s wellbeing. 

“They are all well and it is actually Camilla I wish to speak to you about.”

“Has something happened to her?” Marcus asked worriedly for he cared for the girl. Not in the way Kaeso or Uncle Aquila would’ve preferred, but as a good and dear friend.  
Uncle Aquila couldn’t help but smile for he misread the concern on Marcus’ face, “No, my boy, no ill has come to our dear Camilla. Actually, there is much good headed her way depending on you.”

Marcus and Esca looked at each other. A curious look that didn’t escape the elder Aquila’s hawkish eyes and he suddenly felt his stomach turn.

“I do not understand Uncle.” Marcus kept a steady gaze on his uncle’s face trying to figure out what it was he the older man was thinking; for something told the former centurion there was more to the story, than met his eye.

“Kaeso is interested in a union between you and Camilla, my boy.” Uncle Aquila smiled broadly as he nodded his head.

“Unfortunately, I am not.”

“Marcus, you have done everything you have set out to do.” Uncle Aquila tried to argue. “You should now be looking to immortalize your lineage through sons of your own, and since you cannot grow them in those fields of yours,” the elder man chuckled, “you are going to have to get a wife. I, for one, cannot think of any worthier than Camilla.” Uncle  
Aquila could feel his pressure rising as he noted his nephew’s cool unaffected appearance.

Not wanting to expose himself to his uncle, nor expose the true reason as to why a wife was out of the question for Marcus, he chose another way out. “And I agree with you, but Camilla is out of the question. She is like a young sister to me and I could not see her as a wife were I to try. Forgive me, Uncle.”

The elder Aquila did not press the subject with Marcus for his nephew had closed the door with his response and the former magistrate couldn’t continue without looking unduly interested in the subject. He would have to think of another way to separate his nephew from the former slave who was such an obvious distraction.

That night, the older man cracked his door open enough to see if he saw Esca leave his room to go to Marcus. To his surprise, and shock, what Uncle Aquila did see, was Marcus sneaking into Esca’s room and closing the double doors silently behind him. Uncle Aquila closed his door and spent another sleepless night pacing and wondering how to put a stop to his nephew’s relationship with his freedman without making it look like that was his intent. By the early morning hours, the older man was certain he’d hit on another plan. 

First, he was going to have to visit Kaeso, to let him know that Marcus hadn’t agreed to the union between himself and Camilla, and the reason why. Afterward, Uncle Aquila set off to Calleva to visit with a friend who was hosting a Roman senator at his villa for the summer. The former magistrate heard the senator had brought along his wife and daughters, as well, and he was hoping one of the girls would be of marriageable age. Uncle Aquila’s friend assured him that one of them was: Helena. 

Helena was a beautiful girl of sixteen, whom had married, and had had the misfortune of widowing no less than one year later. Her husband had been killed by bandits while riding home alone on the Via Appia. There had been no children born of the union, therefore, her parents by law would have no issue with her remarrying; especially not to the famous Marcus Flavius Aquila. 

Uncle Aquila did not oppose the idea when his friend invited him to eat the evening meal with them, and spend the night, since it would be too late to head back to the country at such a late hour. He used the opportunity to learn more about the family, and when they asked to hear everything he knew about Marcus’ journey to the north, Uncle Aquila was more than delighted to oblige them. 

By dinner’s end, Uncle Aquila couldn’t wait for the light of dawn to head back to Marcus’ villa. If it was true that Marcus couldn’t agree to a union between Camilla and himself because of his brotherly feelings toward her, there would be no such excuse where Helena was concerned. And Uncle Aquila was certain Marcus wouldn’t offer any such excuse even if he could. The older man figured, there would be no logical reason Marcus could offer his uncle for refusing the senator’s daughter, without making himself look questionable. So, if only to save face in front of his uncle, Marcus would agree to marry Helena; or so Uncle Aquila thought.

Unfortunately, Uncle Aquila was wrong.

Marcus did refuse, and not only did he refuse, but he asked his uncle to respect his wishes and not to interfere in his life again.

That night, a fuming Uncle Aquila cracked open his door in time to catch Marcus standing outside Esca’s room, stealing a quick kiss from his fair-haired lover. Another sleepless night followed as Uncle Aquila thought about the look he’d seen on Marcus’ face as he kissed Esca. How could it be that Marcus couldn’t understand that what he was doing was wrong. Esca was not a woman for him to be fawning over. Marcus bedding Esca wouldn’t have been a problem while the latter was still a slave, but not now that he was a freedman; and more than that: a citizen. 

And then it hit him: Esca was the problem. Esca’s presence in Marcus’ life was the problem. The solution was to remove Esca from Marcus’ life. Uncle Aquila decided to approach Esca. The following day, in the late morning hour, Uncle Aquila visited the stables where Esca passed most of the day.

“You are an excellent horse breeder Esca.”

Esca thanked Uncle Aquila for the compliment and continued combing the black stallion which was to be delivered to its new owner that afternoon.

“You are Brigantes, yes? I have heard your people were excellent horsemen. Who taught you?”

“My father. My brothers.”

Uncle Aquila moved around the stables like one with a purpose and Esca wasn’t oblivious to that fact. The warrior could feel in his gut that his onetime owner had something to say, but he was measuring himself on when and how to say it. And then he did.

“Do you ever miss your home Esca?”

Esca didn’t look away from the stallion’s black coat as he answered, “I do, but that is no longer my home. My people are no longer there. This is my home now.”

“How do you know your people are no longer there? There may still be a few of them left, and as the son of their chief, you have them abandoned.” Uncle Aquila kept a careful and studious eye on Esca’s face trying to check if his words were hitting their mark. Suddenly Esca stopped and looked up at the older man, “If they are still there, they have learned to survive without my father, or me. Why would I want to take that independence from them? I would not.”

Esca put the brush down on the small wood stool near the stall and walked over to Uncle Aquila. His eyes and face intent on the conversation about to be had.

“I know you do not approve of me. I am not the friend you would wish Marcus to have. But I am his friend and I will not leave him to go in search of my people or anyone else, unless he asks me.” And with that Esca turned his back on Uncle Aquila and went back to brushing the stallion’s shiny black coat.

Now what? That door had been closed as well. 

Esca wasn’t going to leave Marcus’ side unless specifically asked by Marcus to do so, and Uncle Aquila was no fool. There was a greater chance of the Seal People storming the wall and coming for the eagle, then there was of Marcus asking Esca to leave his side. The situation was a clear one. Either Uncle Aquila alienated his nephew by continually intruding in his life, and risked losing the only family member he had left in the world, or he accepted and respected Marcus’ decisions, no matter how repulsive and unacceptable they might seem to him. 

The truth of the matter was that Esca loved his nephew. He had proven that by not slitting Marcus’ throat the moment he crossed the wall, as Uncle Aquila had predicted he’d do. He had also proven his love for Marcus by betraying his own kind to help a Roman regain his family’s honor; at the cost of his own. Even if Marcus believed Esca had been driven only by loyalty and honor, Uncle Aquila knew better. 

Perhaps if Uncle Aquila tried to ignore the fact of what Marcus and Esca were to each other at night, behind closed doors, he could live with their friendship in the light of day. The only thing that should matter was his nephew’s happiness and the boy had earned that thousands of times over. Therefore, the choice wasn’t as difficult to make as the older man would’ve thought: he decided to look the other way. 

After all, what the eyes fail to see, the mind never knows about, and the heart never feels.

Fin


End file.
